The Other Side Of The Coin
by Verite
Summary: Sark's POV to Reality. Nothing Sark can do this time...or can he? This is for you qblisa, keep me on my toes : Chapter four is up!
1. The Cold Hard Truth

Irina fixed him with a cold stare. "Julian, you did what you had to do, for Sydney's sake,"

Sark gazed at the ceiling instead. "And for your son's." She finished.

That seemed to break Sark, he looked back at her. "I have to get her out of there. She has to be home." Irina opened her mouth to interrupt but he jumped from his chair. "I'm going to see her." He marched out of the kitchen and to the front door.

"She doesn't remember she loves you." Irina called. _Damn that woman. _Sark slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Sark walked through the front doors at the downtown Psychiatric Care Center.

_What am I going to do if she's right? No. Syd will remember, I know she will. I don't know how, but she will. _He knew he was lying to himself. Sydney was even worse than before. Even Irina was starting to fade from her memory. Only their son would make her remember. But he had been gone for three weeks now. And not even pictures of him were working.

The receptionist greeted him at the front desk. "Yes sir, can we help you?"

"Yes I'm here to see Sydney Larsen." He replied, using the aliases they'd been forced to use when others had discovered their marriage.

The woman called for a nurse to assist him. Shortly, a broad man wearing white scrubs appeared from around the corner. "This way sir." He led Sark down a hallway illuminated in sickening florescent lighting. "I have to warn you," the man began, "Today's not a good day. She hasn't been very responsive."

Sark dismissed him with a slight wave of his hand. "She'll come around." _Keep thinking that and maybe you'll believe yourself._

They reached Sydney's room and the nurse left him. Sark put his hand on the door knob and paused briefly, but gritting his teeth, he opened it.

Sydney was sitting in a chair by the window. She didn't look at him when she heard the door open, if she heard it at all. There was another chair by the bed. Sark picked it up and set it down besides her. She still stared out the window which overlooked the river.

"Hey how are you feeling today?"

No answer.

He tried again. "Syd?"

Suddenly she spun around, simultaneously picking up the chair and smashing it into Sark. He flew back against the wall and collapsed.

When he came to, she was gone. _Damn it! _Sark jumped to his feet, shaking his head. The door was open. He raced out of the room and looked back and forth down the corridor. She wasn't in sight. He ran down the way he had come and burst through the double doors of the main entrance.

He scanned through the crowds looking for a head of smooth brown hair. There! In a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt. She was half walking half running down the street towards the fountains. Sark started after her, walking as fast as he could to keep up with her pace.

Then Sydney looked back and saw him following her. He could see the terror in her eyes. She turned and bolted. _She doesn't remember me. She doesn't even remember me. _But what could he do?

Irina's words came back to him. "_She thinks you're an enemy. So be her enemy_."

Sark gritted his teeth and began to run.

* * *

There was no way he was going to catch up. It was a battle of who was more desperate. And what broke his heart was that she was as determined to get away from him as he was to catch her. _But she doesn't know. If she'd only remember. _

There were even more people the further Sark continued to chase her. It was hard to keep her in view, but just then that blue shirt flashed among the crowd. She was looking back at him and crashed into a woman walking in the opposite direction.

Sark kept running, trying to gauge how far away she was from him and how long it would take to catch her. He looked down the hill to see the signal turn orange, but to his horror, he saw that Sydney didn't stop. She ran into the road, dodging cars until she reached the other side. _I've got to get to her before she gets herself killed_.

When he reached the signal, there were too many people waiting to push through, so he had no choice but to wait. _Damn, if I lose her... _The signal changed and he pushed past people as fast as he could, trying his best to run down the street, but he couldn't see her.

Sark stopped by an alley and bent over to catch his breath. _Irina was right. What am I going to tell my son? _He stoodup and noticed a homeless man sitting just inside the alley. For a moment the man looked at Sark, then back at something on the far side of a dumpster across from him.

Sydney dashed out from behind it and ran to the other side of the alley, turning left down the sidewalk. _She's going to the fountains. _Sark rushed after her. _She thinks he will be there. _A thought flashed though his mind. _She remembers where!_

He turned the corner and raced down the sidewalk past people still turning their heads to watch the woman that was doing the same ahead of him. The signal ahead was white. Sark could feel his heartbeat in his ears. _If I can make this light I can catch her. _

Suddenly a bicyclist darted out in front of Sydney. The two of them crashed to the hard concrete. Sark bit off a yell as he watched his wife tumble to the ground. He heard her apologizing to the man, then she looked straight at Sark. The look of fear in her eyes was almost feral. _Love, come back. _

The light had turned to orange and once again he was stuck in the crowd. He strained his neck in time to see her slipping down the street away from him. Finally the light changed and he continued his mad dash past all the people. He felt in a way like a fish swimming against the current. There she was! Waiting at the light. _Just. Stay. There. Let me catch you. _

But no, Sydney had seen him. And what was worse was she was gonna try to best the cars on the busiest street yet. _No!_ This was it, this was... she made it! Sark stopped dead in his tracks, he couldn't breathe. He felt as if he had just rushed the street with her. Yet he still was on the other side. Still.

He was the first to cross making sure not to lose her in the crowds surrounding the fountains. At times he thought he saw her, but each time he was wrong. _She knows I'm here. She'll try the boat. _Flipping open his cell, he punched a few numbers.

"She's heading your way... do what you have to do..." He huffed frustratedly into the phone, "Of course she is... no I'm right behind her... no, I'll do it myself. Flipping it shut, he marched resolutely through the throng of people surrounding the park down to the docks.

There she was, edging her way to their boat moored at the docks. Sark saw his men step out. _Do it Sark, do it or she'll scream._ She hadn't heard him following her, she only saw the two men waiting. He was still advancing when she bummed into him. Sydney turned around and opened her mouth. _Do it!_


	2. Assessing The Damage

Sark watched her drop to the deck. His heart dropped as she did. _My God, why am I forced to this?_ He unclenched and clenched his aching fist. But he knew the answer. It was the only way to stop his wife. He carefully lifted her into the arms of one of his men.

"What should we do with her?" The man asked.

Sark thought hard. They would take the boat to the other side where he had a car waiting. But she had escaped last time she was in the car with him. "Tie her up." He paused, waiting for the man's reaction. There was none. "And put her in the boat."

The man did as he was told, as he always did. Sark gazed at Sydney's face, half covered by her brunette hair, then painfully looked away. When was this going stop? When was he going to be her husband again and not her enemy?

"Sir?" The other man was waiting.

Suppressing a sigh, Sark followed the men into the boat and sat near the front, watching the wake from a boat passing by. He sat near the front, so he wouldn't see his wife being tied up. He ran his fingers through his blond hair in frustration. She had never gotten this far. _She had never gotten this far. _The words rang accusingly in his head. It was his fault she was out, he had practically driven her out. _Irina was right_. This time he did sigh. As she always was. Cruel as she could be, she was always right.

Now they were on the water, passing under bridges and past boats. Boats filled with laughing people, couples, families. Sark turned away and walked to the back of the boat. Sydney was lying on a couch, still unconscious. All he wanted to do was touch her. But he refrained, fearing to wake her up.

They docked across the river where the car was parked. One man tied up the boat while the other carried Sydney to the car and opened the back door. Sark raised his hand for him to stop before the man sat her down. He then opened the trunk and stepped aside.

"Put her in." The man motioned to do so, moving towards the open trunk, but Sark touched his arm. _I can't do this to her_. "Wait." He half whispered, distracted by the sight of his wife, so strong, so beautiful, lying defenseless, and Sark realized, abandoned of reason. He had to do it, he had to be her enemy. If it was the only way he could keep her, could keep his son's mother.

Softly kissing her forehead, Sark untied her hands and feet, then curtly nodded to the man, who set her carefully in the trunk, and closed the lid.

ooooooooooo

Sark's men drove him to the back of a vacant warehouse. Sark had done business there years ago. As they drove into the lane, he felt her briefly thrashing through the seat. _She's awake_.The car stopped to park, and his mind raced. _What will she try to do?_ There were handcuffs in a hidden compartment of the car. He rubbed one hand slowly down the side of his jaw at the thought of using them on her. He didn't want to. But he would.

Sark stepped out of the car and unlocked the trunk. Sydney blinked through the light up at him. There was no recognition in her eyes, only fear. He leaned down to pull her up and she yanked her arm away. His hand came out of nowhere onto her face and her hand shot to her reddened cheek.

One tear fell.

_How can it get any worse? _

He pulled her out and pinned her an instant before she tried to run free. The two men were out of the car and walking to the building's back door.

Sark realized how tightly he was gripping his wife's arm. He relaxed his hand and turned her to face him. _Think Sark, think. How did I talk to her? _It was coming back to him, the faux politeness, the smug smiles.

He pasted one on his face. "Shall I escort you or will you be a big girl and go in yourself?" Sydney didn't move so he decided to lose the smile. "You will be the one who determines how hard this is going to be."

That seemed to do the trick. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and stalked away. He sighed inwardly and followed her to where she stood in the open doorway, looking into what he imagined was to her, just another room where she had been interrogated or tortured. But he had to finish what he had started and so he pushed her forward and was surprised that she simply let him lead her to one of the chairs.

He kept the smirk on as he pulled the chair out for her. Sydney sat down roughly. _Wait. Too easy. _Sark looked at the handcuffs in his hands, gritted his teeth and locked, just one, of her hands to the chair.

Now Sark panicked. _What to say?_ He had no clue as to what she knew or remembered. _Bluff. _He casually sat across her at the table. "I assume you know why I've brought you here?"

Sydney looked away. Sark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for what she would say, but she said nothing. _Okay, this is going nowhere. _She turned to look again at him as he stood but squeezed her eyes shut as he walked around to her chair, missing the pain etched on his face at her fear of him.

Sark leaned down and choked out. "I'll give you some time to remember." _Please remember. _

He stood and walked to the door, but paused and looked back. She was staring straight ahead, at where he had been sitting. Sark turned and without another thought, turned off the light, and shut the door behind him.

ooooooooooo

Sark sat in the car. _I can't leave her there. So what do I do? _His eyes closed as his mind drifted to thoughts of his son, and the time they had spent together before Sydney had begun to slip. Sark remembered his guilty relief in sending him off to summer camp, in what Sark felt was just in time. Suddenly his eyes flew open. He had fallen asleep! He threw the car door open.

"Take the car and park it in the back." He commanded his men. Then he raced to the door, stopping himself just in time to prevent himself from slamming into it. _Wait, wait. What to say? She doesn't remember. Think, how to be her enemy. I can't hold her like this._ Sark pounded his fist against the wall, then straightened his jacket, opened the door, and turned on the light.

There she was, still beautiful in her torn jeans and dingy shirt, still sitting in the chair, still with one hand cuffed to it. Even with her broken mind, she remained, as she would ever, strong to him. He approached her and unlocked her hand. Sydney rubbed her wrist. Sark smiled at her, foolishly hoping for any sign of recognition, but she looked away. It was then that his pent up anger broke free as he grabbed her face and yelled. "In the name of God, why can't you remember?

Her brown eyes bored into his blue. _Stop. Please stop._ "Please" the word slipped out.

Tears slid down her face. _My God_ _I've made her cry._ His fingers brushed her cheek.

"Let me go" His wife demanded through clenched teeth.

_I can't._ "No." He replied. Sark gently stroked two fingers along her jaw. _I've got to keep you here._ He opened his mouth, then closed it. No, he wouldn't say that. _Fine, let's see where you go. _"Is that the way you want it to be?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Very well then, go."

To his surprise, she shook her head. Sark returned to his chair and waited to see if she was explain that, but she looked again at the ground. He leaned his elbows on the table. _What is she waiting for? Does she expect me to beat something out of her. As if I would ever hurt her. _He chuckled at the thought.

Sydney snapped her head up and caught him still grinning. She frowned darkly at him and he stifled a laugh. Instead he offered the door with a slight motion of his hand. She narrowed her eyes in what he assumed was suspicion. But she did stand and walked to the door.

He sat there in his chair. _So how long do I let her go? And where will she go?_ He waited for the door to shut. As soon as it did, he flipped open his cell phone. "Do you still see her?" He asked one of his men.

"No sir."

"Good, bring the car around." Sark hung up and walked to the door. His men were waiting, like clockwork. He got in the car. "The fountains. That's where she'll be." _What's my next move?_ "Home." He rubbed his temples. "Take me home."


	3. Home Sweet Home

Sark was tired as he unlocked the door to his house. He threw his keys on the small table by the door and walked into the kitchen. Irina was sitting by the window. _As if she lives here. _

"She got away." Irina said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

He wasn't in the mood to argue. "What should I do? She's at the fountains-"

"I know." She interrupted. "That's all she knows right now." She turned to look at him. "So this is what you do. You find her there, she'll be sleeping on a bench. Take her back to the hospital, and leave her there."

Sark walked to the window. "You expect me to just leave her there again?"

Irina fixed him with a steely glare. "Yes. That's exactly what I expect."

He turned on his heel and walked upstairs, passing by his son's bedroom, and stopped. It was still dark, with closed blinds and the night light with the stars and moon unplugged. Sark stepped inside and opened the blinds, daylight spilling onto the bedspread with his son's favorite cartoon characters on it.

He closed his eyes for a moment, forgetting everything, his amnesiac wife, his infuriating mother-in-law. But he opened them and left the room, continuing down the hallway to his own. The window was open and Sark went to shut it, but instead, looked out into the backyard.

There it was. The swing set that he and Sydney had picked out as a surprise for their son's return home. _Of course! _He raced out of the room and down the stairs. He threw open the door, picking up his keys simultaneously. Sark jumped into his car and sped down the drive.

* * *

He found her just as Irina had said, curled up on a park bench by the abandoned fountains, sleeping, rather peacefully as he looked at her. Carefully maneuvering his arms around her, he lifted her up, propping her head against him. Sark laid her in the back seat and quickly drove back up to their house.

_There's no way I'm taking her back there. She'll never remember there._ Sark hoped Irina wouldn't be there when he arrived. He parked in the drive and carefully, so as not to wake her, carried her into the house and up to their room. Sark laid Sydney on the bed and sat by her for a few moments.

He reached out a hand to touch her face but resisted. Instead, he got up and looked again out with window. _Not yet, I can't let her see it yet._ Taking the shade strings, he tied them down to the window latch. Then he left the room, locking the door behind him and walked downstairs to sit and think as what to do next.

Irina was still in the kitchen to Sark's dismay. He spun on his heel before she spotted him and stalked to the den. But he found he couldn't sit still, so he began to pace back and forth. Then he heard rustling from upstairs. His heart jumped and he dashed up the stairs to their room. He quietly unlocked and opened the door.

She had crawled under the covers and seemed to be asleep. "Are you awake?" He whispered. There was no answer.

"Julian?" He heard Irina call. _Damn it. She better not come upstairs. _He walked back to the door and closed it. As he passed by his son's room he paused, and closed that door as well. Then he proceeded downstairs.

_But what if seeing Brandon's room would be a good thing? _He turned to go back upstairs and almost ran right into Sydney. He caught her arm as she turned to run back upstairs. She swung around at him and her fist collided with his jaw. On impulse, he punched her as well. _Stop being so stubborn! _

His wife sank to the floor and started to cry. "Why? Why am I here? She asked. "How did I get here?"

_How many times must you break my heart, Love? _"You've always been here." He simply stated.

Sydney shook her head in what Sark took to be disbelief. He lifted her up and gently touched her face with his fingers. She didn't struggle, only stared off into space. _What is she thinking? Is she finally remembering? _She was quiet for quite some time.

"I remember..." Sydney finally said shakily. She looked at him, with the first recognition in weeks. "But why? Why here?"

Sark didn't have the chance to reply because Irina came storming in from the kitchen. "What are you doing?" She yelled. "Do you think bringing her here will solve anything?"

Irina then moved towards Sydney, Sark didn't know why, but didn't want to know. He pulled his wife close to him, but Sydney struggled against him. This seemed to amuse her mother because she stopped and smirked. "If you think this will work, you certainly have your work cut out for you." Irina turned and walked back into the kitchen.

_I'll show you. You're wrong. _Sark relaxed his grip on her arms but he didn't let go.

"Sark" Sydney spoke. He let her go and she turned to face him. He didn't know how to feel. She remembered his name, but she hadn't called him Sark since, well… _I'm still the enemy, she just knows my name again. _"Will you let me go?

His eyes darkened. "You still don't understand!" He yelled as he grabbed her arm again. For a second he considered taking her to the car again, but decided against it. Instead, he dragged her, struggling in vain, up the stairs and to their room.

He shoved her forward, intending to lock her in again, but stopped. He looked at her. His wife, his broken, confused wife. He loved her so much. "Sydney…" He pleaded and walked towards her. But she stepped back, away from him, until she bumped into the bed and fell on it.

She held up her hand. "Don't" She trembled.

Sark stopped. _Have it your way._ He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door, then locking it. He dreaded going downstairs. She would be there, waiting to lord her predictions over him. He was seething as he entered his kitchen. Sure enough, Irina was sitting there by the window. _As if she owns the place. _

"She didn't remember the bedroom." It wasn't a question. She turned and met his eyes. "Did you show her Brandon's room?"

Sark mentally hit himself. "No."

"Good." She replied.

_Why good? _Sark left the kitchen without another word, but as he approached the stairs, he could hear Sydney crying. He paused, his hand on the railing. _No. No don't go up there._ He walked through a side room, one that was Sydney's favorite, with big, wide windows that looked out onto the lawn.

Sark opened the door and stepped out onto the deck. There it was. The swing set. He and Sydney had bought it a few days after Brandon left for camp. In the few days before she was admitted into the hospital, she would sit on the swing, every morning. And Sark would watch her from the kitchen, afraid to join her, afraid to leave her, and so he watched, always watched, only watched.

Sighing, he went back into the house and to the couch, ignoring the fact that his mother-in-law may still be in his kitchen. For hours he lay awake, unable to focus, unable to sleep. He thought that bringing her home would make things right, but it had only confirmed Irina's statements. Sydney didn't remember her husband, only the man who used to be her rival.


	4. One plus One equals Three

A scream jarred him from his dreamless sleep. He practically leapt off the couch. _Sydney! _He dashed up the stairs but slowed to a walk as he drew closer to their bedroom. He carefully opened the door. Sydney was sitting at the desk, but his eyes were drawn to the window. She had cut the ties to the shades._ So she must have seen the swing set. _

Sydney stood up from the chair. Sark walked to stand behind her. She looked at the swing set, then at him. _You remember don't you? _A look of confusion crossed her face and she sat back down. He knelt beside her and covered her hands with his. She looked into his eyes. _Love, please remember. _His fingers hesitantly touched her face and could tell she had been crying. _This must be like a prison to her. _

His heart jumped a little when she brought her hand up to his. Sark looked towards the door. _I've got to get her out of here. Take her to the swing. If that cursed woman is gone. _He had no way of knowing. They would just have to be sneaky.Grabbing her other hand, he pulled his wife to her feet. She resisted but he hissed "Unless you enjoy being confined to this room, come with me."

"Ok." She agreed. _Sydney may have forgotten me, but she's still on top of her game._

He led her down the hallway but stopped suddenly, motioning with his hand for her to do the same. Irina's voice could be heard below. _Damn, she's still here._ She was having a heated conversation with someone. _Jack! Damn it!_ He leaned partially over the railing.

"Call me if she leaves." Sark heard Jack say, then he left. Sark then heard Irina walking back into the kitchen. _Good. Stay there_. He took Sydney's hand again and they crept down stairs. Quietly he took her into the side room that overlooked the lawn. Sark turned to close the door behind him. As soon as he did, Sydney bolted for the door that led onto the deck outside.

_No!_ He dashed after her. "Sydney! Stop!"

She paused by the swing set. _Yes, yes, remember, just stay here. _But then she raced for the gate that opened out into the street as Sark ran onto the deck. Throwing aside a chair he reached the gate just in time to see her running down the street. "Sydney!" He yelled again in vain. _Stupid! Why didn't you see that coming?_ He slammed the gate shut and looked back to the house.

There she was, Irina sitting by the window, an enigmatic smile on her face. Sark growled and stormed back up the stairs to the deck and back into the house. He banged the door open and walked into the kitchen.

"You knew that would happen." He accused.

"Yes." She simply replied.

"Then why did you let it happen?" Sark roared.

Irina shrugged slightly. "You wouldn't have believed me."

Sark slumped against the wall, defeated. "What do I do now?"

It was as if Irina had been waiting for those very words. "Jack is waiting by the fountains." She was all business now. "I suggest you find her before he does."

* * *

Sark raced down the main street that led to the river, looking for any sign of his wife. But the further and faster he drove, the more he lost hope. She was gone again, maybe in the hands of Jack, maybe in the hospital again. He reached the parking garage across the fountains and parked, resting his head on the steering wheel. But not for long. _What am I doing?!_ Sark jumped out of the car and raced across the street.

There she was, sitting by the fountains, smiling at the children and looking down at her watch. Sark looked at his own. Two o'clock. Then he remembered Irina's words. _Jack is here somewhere._ He scanned the crowd as at the same time, hid in it from the notoriously watchful eyes of his father-in-law.

When he was finally convinced he hadn't been spotted by Jack, Sark cautiously approached Sydney from the side. He didn't want to scare her, but neither did he want her to run away again. Sark slid very carefully onto the bench beside her. She didn't seem to notice him. "Syd," He spoke quietly. "You're a little early."

To his surprise and delight, she turned quite calmly and replied, grinning, "And you're very late."

Sark returned her grin with one of his own. "Well." He said slyly, moving closer, "I know of this place we could go to while we wait."

"Julian," _She used my name._ "We can't leave now. We'll miss him. C'mon, let's look around the carnival. We'll have to bring Brandon back here tomorrow." Standing up, she took his hand and went to pull him up from the park bench.

Sark remained seated but kept a firm grip on Sydney's outstretched hand. "Sydney, you need to come home." _Don't run. Not now. Please. I need you._

"But Brandon--" She cut off and he could see the transformation, the wild look enter her beautiful eyes.

"What are you doing here? Where's my son? What did you do to my son?!" Her voice shook into a scream.

Sark wouldn't let go of her hand. "Syd, Sydney, please. He's not coming yet! Syd, you've _got_ to remember!" But it was clear nothing was registering. He had to get her home before she made a scene. Before Jack found him. Sark jumped to his feet and grabbed her to him, covering her mouth and whispering in her ear. _Play the enemy._ "I have Brandon, and if you want to see him again, you do _exactly_ as I tell you." _Please Love, forgive me._ That seemed to do the trick, he felt her muscles relax and gradually she stopped struggling.

"That's better. Now if you would do me the honor of coming with me-" She started to mumble. "Without" He emphasized, "Disturbing this crowd, I'll tell you how to see Brandon again."

Carefully he dropped the hand covering her mouth. "Okay." She agreed shirking off his other arm. "But I swear to you, if you hurt him..."

Sark raised his hand, cutting her off. "Sydney I assure you, I have not harmed your son in any way."

They crossed the street and into the parking lot where he had left his car. He opened the passenger door for Sydney, ignoring her glare as she sat down. Sark backed out, and began the drive leading up to their house, noticing that his wife said not a word. _Should I say something?_ He glanced over to where she still sat silent. "I assure you I'll explain everything once we get to th- your house. I think that would be the best place for you to be, considering?"

He was about to speak again when she broke her silence. "Who put you up to this? Why now? And why my _son_?

Sark was quiet for a moment. His first inclination was simply not to respond. _But that might make her worse_. "I think you'll understand once we arrive."

* * *

The minutes that passed as they drove up the hills that overlooked the city were agonizing. But finally they reached the drive that led to their house. Sydney began to shift as they pulled into the garage.

"Sydney," He cautioned. "If you run, my men will find you. They always do. So do yourself and your son a favor and remain here." When he was satisfied that she wouldn't try to get out, he left the car and entered the house and went straight to the kitchen. No Irina. _Thank God._ He turned back to the garage. _Please be there._ He paused by the door, collected himself and opened it, walking back to the car.

She was there. He noticed she hadn't even unbuckled the seatbelt. Sark walked round to her door and opened it without expression. Slowly, Sydney clicked the belt open and stepped out to move past him. Sark swiftly blocked her, pressuring her arm very lightly. "Sydney, don't say I didn't warn you. They will find you."

She nodded and he allowed her to walk into the house unescorted. Once inside, Sark closed the door behind him, locking it swiftly. For a few moments, Sydney stood, looking around. _Does she remember any of this?_ But she apparently did, for she headed toward the kitchen without seeming to wander. He followed her, wanting to see what she might do next. Sydney looked back at him with annoyance.

"Are you going to watch me the entire time or can I have some privacy?" She snapped.

He inclined his head, and left in the direction of the den. _Not too far away, but not too close._ He walked around the room for a few minutes, trying to decide his next course of action. He knew he was tired, but he couldn't, wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep. No. Sitting was not an option. Watching anything was out of the question. _Too loud. _So he continued his pacing.

Minutes dragged on. The couch was looking more and more tempting. He was about to give in, when Sydney appeared at the door, tears streaking down her face.

"Just tell me what you want." She sobbed. "I just want my son back. Please." _I just want you back._ "Julian," She started. Sark held up his hand. "I-" She tried again.

_You're so close Love._ "Sydney," He began, "Would you show me his room?"_ She's softening up, maybe she'll let me in at last._ To his relief, she nodded, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

"It's upstairs. This way." She pointed up to the stairs across the hall. Sark let his wife lead him upstairs and down the hallway to their son's room. He stopped at the doorway, watching her explore the room, picking up a toy here or there, touching a book on a shelf. "He was so excited to get this bed." She said, almost to herself, lovingly touching the comforter.

"I remember." Sark replied softly.

She turned around. "Yes." She spoke quietly. "You were there, weren't you?"

"I was."

"Julian," Her lip trembled as new tears welled up in her brown eyes. "What's wrong with me?"

_God, I didn't expect that._ He rushed to her side and she buried her head into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her. _I miss you so much._ "Syd? Sydney, it was the accident, remember? Do remember?"

"No!" She wailed. "I don't! I can't!"

"It's okay, shh." He rocked her gently, resting his head on hers. _I've been blaming all this on her! It's not her fault. I can't keep pushing her. _"It's okay, you don't have to."

She looked up at him. "But I have to! I _have_ to remember you! I can't forget! Not again! Not again!"

Sark bit his lip, thinking of what to do next. This was certainly a turn for the best. "C'mere," He took her by the hand and led her down the hall to their room. But when they reached the door, Sydney held back.

"What are you doing?" There was a hint of fear in her voice.

"Love, don't be scared." He soothed. "You need to rest. "He smiled at this. "I need to rest. Chasing you all over takes its toll, even on me. Besides, I owe you an apology."

This seemed to have the desired effect on his wife, because she smiled back at him. "I think I do too. If I remember correctly... I punched you in the face."

Sark barked out a laugh in response. "Don't feel bad about that, the sentiment was returned." Worry creased his forehead. "If you remember that, do you remember asking me why you were here?"

"I remember..." She paused. "I remembered the rose garden, but it was different. I didn't know you, I remembered only the garden."

Sark gently squeezed her hand, and they entered the bedroom. He kissed her forehead. "Lay down."

She let out a sigh as she sat down onto the bed. He sat next to her and ever so slowly, pushed her down so she was looking up at him. She was smiling, and when she raised to arms up to his neck, he tossed aside all worries and kissed her deeply.

They continued as she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it down off his arms and discarding it onto the floor. Sark let her soft hands explore his back as he trailed kisses down to the hollow of her neck. "Sark" She whispered as he pulled her over on top of him. But she didn't complete her sentence as he had returned his lips to hers. He stroked her rich, brown hair as she ran her hands through his spiky blond.

Sydney leaned back into the pillows, putting a hand over Sark's mouth. "Tell me how this started. I mean, we're married!" She glanced down at the ring on her left hand. "We have a son. We're not enemies, I'm not CIA. Tell me so I can remember, I want to. Even if I forget, just, just tell me. Please."

Sark sat up against the pillows. She laid her head down upon his chest as he began. "Well for starters, you are still CIA."

* * *


End file.
